


At the Edge of Forever

by somethingscarlet13



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Clubbing, Drug Use, M/M, some pretty hot make out sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:45:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8371060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingscarlet13/pseuds/somethingscarlet13
Summary: Just some teen cecilos for all of you. It starts kinda sad, but gets happy I promise





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a super long time ago for a friend of mine and never posted it for some reason, so here it is!

The radio intern looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. His one and only nice shirt was wrinkled, his tattoos were showing, and his mascara was starting to run. He was seated in front of his boss, trying hard not to yawn, his thoughts half on why was he here and half on what was to come later that night.  
His boss looked hard at him and began to speak, saying each word slowly and carefully as if the boy before him was as dimwitted as a young child. “Mr. Palmer, I have called you in here today to talk to you about your recent behavior. Not only are you constantly late, but it is not in your job description to go on air and yet you do, you do every day and talk about this town as if it were a fantasy story. Illegal bread, five-headed dragons, for christs sake we do not live in a desert. You’ve been caught with fellow interns in, shall we say, compromising positions in the mens bathroom. Not only do we believe you are doing drugs, but we have gotten complaints, a great many complaints Mr. Palmer, about you and your funny business and quite frankly I’m tired of it.”  
His head out of the clouds, the boy feels his gut drop and breathing gets hard. “P-please, s-sir, I’m sorry. I Didn’t know-know I was being such a disturbance and i-if I could just--”  
The man shakes his head and cuts him off. “No Mr. Palmer, I’ve seen quite enough. This has been going on for months. I’m sorry but we cannot have you here any longer.”  
The kid shakes his head, legs going limp like jell-o. This can’t be happening, he thinks. Please. “No....,” he whispers, the room suddenly hard to see, the figure before him swimming and blurry.  
“Cecil Palmer, go get yourself some help kid. Until then-”  
“No, please, no......”  
“--You’re fired.” 

 

*************

 

Six hours later, in knee-high purple high heeled boots, fishnet stockings, black leather shorts, and a torn hot pink vest, Cecil can drown himself in the flashing lights, the pounding music, and the bitter drinks, and forget about what had happened earlier that day. His tattoos were showing, a big fuck you to his ex boss, his makeup was pink and glittered, and he had his tongue down some punk redhead’s throat.  
His drugs had dissolved on his tongue hours ago, and the room was full of brighter colors and louder sounds then he thought possible, the redhead's mouth tasting sweet, although that may just be the drugs and have nothing to do with the person.  
There was a cough and Cecil tore his face away from tone face to look up at another. There stood a dark skinned young man, around Cecil’s own age, with torn up jeans and a sweatshirt tied around his waist. His glasses were smeared with liquid that had tried to be wiped off and he was holding out a little bag to Cecil without smiling, or showing any other emotion for that matter. He was filthy and looked like a homeless person, but Cecil launched himself off the redheads lap and around the dark skinned persons shoulders, only to be violently shrugged off.  
“Jeez Cecil, did you drink with this stuff?” The young man’s voice was rich like caramel and had a slight spanish accent to it.  
Cecil nodded and slipped his arms around the other boys shoulders once again. He pressed his forehead against the dirty kids temple and said directly into his ear, “The money’s in my car.” He was swaying like a branch in wind, trying hard not to fall over, and he slid his mouth to where his forehead had been and kissed it. “I love you Carlos.”  
Again he was shoved away. “Cecil, I’m your dealer, nothing more. Now come on, I need the money.”  
With a whine, the boy two steps away from being a drag queen lead Carlos out of the club and into the ice cold air of the parking lot. He found his car and unlocked it, climbing into the passenger seat and opening the glove compartment. Rummaging through junk, Cecil gritted his teeth.  
“Did you know I got fired today? They kicked me out and not only that, but the promotion I was working my fucking ass off to get, guess who those bitches gave it to? Steve Carlsberg. Of all people, they gave it to Steve!”  
He looked over at Carlos, standing in the open car door with the same blank and bored expression as he had had in the club, and felt tears rise again. He chucked a fat envelope and hit Carlos right in the chest with it. “There’s your damn money.”  
Carlos pulled the bag out of his pocket and placed it on the seat beside Cecil. “See you next week,” was all he said as he turned around and began walking away.  
Cecil watched him go, the tears brimming over now, streeking hot pink and jet black down his cheeks. What he had said in the club hadn’t been a lie. He did love Carlos, he really did. He always had, ever since the first time he had bought drugs from him and no matter how much he did or how many drinks he downed or, yes, how many blowjobs he did in the radio stations mens bathroom, it was Carlos who he loved. The random people he made out with in clubs meant nothing, their kisses like plaster against his lips. It was Carlos he wanted to hold close and kiss until four in the morning when the club closed. He opened up to him, telling him about his life so far each time they traded money for drugs, but the dark skinned angel seemed as interested in him as he would have been with a cinder block and it would never happen. From day one Cecil had set himself up for heartbreak.  
He had lost his job, his promotion was given to the person he hated the most, and he had as much of a chance with Carlos as abc gum. In the car, the passenger door still wide open, Cecil buried his face in his hands and cried. 

 

*************

 

The next morning, Cecil woke up in the back of a car he didn’t recognize, his LSD everywhere and the redhead he had been tonguesucking the night before by his side.  
Shit. What happened last night? Cecil thought as he sat up, his head pounding. Right now he could care less about the redhead, but his slips of paper were everywhere and that was unforgivable. With a swear, Cecil shoved his sore body to his hands and knees, crawling about the backseat and gathering each slip of paper into his palm.  
When that was done, he looked about for the bag, finally finding it under the passenger seat. He had wiped the last of the paper slips into the bag just as the boy he had woken up next to opened his eyes and sat up. He ran a hand through his carrot top hair and smiled at Cecil, a smile that was all teeth. “Hey,” he said in a soft voice, the kind one uses to seduce, and reached under his back, pulling a pair of dark purple panties and tossing them at Cecil’s chest.  
Cecil swallowed and picked them up. The panties were warm and silky and wet. Cecil gagged and dropped them again, which made the redhead laugh. “I had a good time last night too,” he said, a half drugged smile on his face as he watched Cecil shove the panties into the pocket of his hot pink vest. He held out a hand and nodded towards the bag by Cecil’s side. “Gimme some more,” he demanded, twitching his fingers towards himself in a “give me” sign.  
Cecil had no idea who this person was or what he had done with him the night before or how he had ended up in this person’s car. All effects of the LSD from the night before had worn off, leaving Cecil with the effects of real life and what it came with. He wanted out of this car and away from this person who’s kisses he didn’t even feel.  
Noticing the blond’s look, the redhead sighed and sat up all the way. “If you're scared that I gave you something, I’m clean.” He shoved his hand further out towards Cecil. “Now come on. Don’t be a prick, give me some more.”  
Cecil shook his head. The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” Cecil swallowed hard and shook his head again. “No.”  
In a flash the redhead was up, opening the door and shoving Cecil, hard, onto the gravel ground. By the time the blond got himself to his knees, the car was gone. With bleeding, stinging scrapes, Cecil got to his feet and walked himself back to the other side of the parking lot where his car was, his little baggie of drugs still clutched firmly in one fist.  
He got to his car and felt his pockets, only finding his dirty panties. It was the final straw. Unloved, jobless, drug addicted, he was hopeless. With a scream of everything that had been building up, Cecil pounded his fists against the side of his car. Tears began to flow, something that was happening quite frequently he was noticing, and he leaned his forehead against the metal between his fists and let it all out. He let the tears flow and flow and flow, drawing his arms up and over his head, choked gasps escaping from smeared glossed lips.  
Cecil didn’t know how long he was there, sobbing like a pathetic child, but he stopped mid-sob when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Cecil froze up, then whipped around so fast the person had to step back. When Cecil saw who it was his eyes went wide, then narrowed into slits.  
The person was a few inches taller than Cecil, with messy short black hair. He had on a ratty black shirt, dark skinny jeans, a long black trenchcoat, and black combat boots, the big silver buckles gleaming in the sunlight. His brown eyes, although harsh, looked genuinely worried behind his yellow framed sunglasses. “You doing ok buddy?,” he asked, slowly extending a hand, which Cecil harshly slapped away. “Fuck off Steve Carlsberg.”  
Steve nodded and lowered his hand. “Fair enough. You just looked like you could use a friend right now is all, buddy. You doin’ ok? If you’re locked out of your car I could give you a ride, my car is just around the corner.”  
Cecil wiped his smeared makeup, still watery, away with the back of his hand. “Oh yeah,” he spat, voice pure sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m doing so great! Especially since you know.......you took my promotion! And no, I’m not letting you give me a ride home you asshole.”  
He tried to punch Steve, but the young goth sidestepped the swing, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Look, Cecil, you’re a good guy. But you’ve gone down a road that’s bound to not end well for you or anyone else for that matter.” He tried to put his hand back on Cecil’s shoulder, but the blond slapped his hand away again. Steve sighed heavily. “Look Cecil, get yourself fixed up, kay? Get your life back! Then you can come back to the radio station and--”  
“SHUT UP! SHUTUPSHUTUP SHUT THE FUCK UP!,” Cecil screamed at the top of his lungs, so angry he was shaking. He took a step closer and japped Steve in the chest. “Look here Steve Carlsberg. You can go with your job you stole and your opinions nobody gives a shit about and go shove them up your ass.” He was whispering now, and the sudden change of voice was unsettling and scary. He jabbed Steve in the chest again, harder this time, and continued. “You can do that, and, if you won’t, I’ll do it myself and shove them so far up your ass you’ll be stopped up for years. So just leave me alone and get out.”  
Steve opened his mouth, but the next words that were said were Cecil’s. “Go.” The blond pointed a finger over the goths shoulder and down the block. “Get out of here.”  
Steve shrugged and turned on his heel, walking away from the trashed glam trash boy with smeared makeup and leather pants with no underwear underneath and paper bag of LSD. Halfway down the block, he stopped and turned around. “Don’t say I didn't tell you-”  
“LEAVE! NOW!”  
Steve turned tail and ran, trenchcoat being the last thing Cecil saw as he disappeared around the corner.  
Still filled with rage, Cecil spun back around and kicked his car. The pain shooting through his foot almost didn't exist, his other emotions over powering it. There was nothing else. He had hit rock bottom. Nobody loved him, and he foolishly expected love to flourish between himself and whoever he could pick up for one night at a club, praying for true love in kisses that were unenjoyable and sloppy and sex that meant nothing than just simply getting off. He had no job, the radio station being something he loved and cared deeply for, his sense of security. He had no wish to find a different job of any kind, radio being his one true passion since he was a boy, everything else seeming dull by comparison. He had nothing but drugs, something he didn’t even remember why he started doing in the first place and which couldn’t give him something another human being or a great passion for something could.  
And then there was Carlos. Beautiful, perfect Carlos. Carlos, the only reason he kept doing the drugs. Even if it was just long enough to hand over some cash, just seeing the dealer was enough to make Cecil forget anything bad existed. He didn’t understand why or how he had fallen so fast and so hard for the dark skinned young man, but he had, and the small rush he got when his fingertips brushed against the other’s hand was like a drug all of it’s own. Sure he knew next to nothing about the guy, but somehow he knew that this is what love felt like, not finding any old guy who would kiss him while drunk, the room to dark to see their face. If there was one thing Cecil had been able to hold onto throughout everything, it was that he truly did love Carlos.  
Of course, he was stupid enough to fall for the one person who would never love him back. Carlos barely ever spoke to him, mostly he was just a presence that came, got what he wanted, and was gone. Nothing more, nothing less. Cecil was living a dream, a fairy tale, a fantasy. He was living in the delusion that one day Carlos would come and sweep him off his feet and take him away and they would live happily ever after, and he knew it. He knew it and it made him sick.  
Forget the car, he would no longer need it after today. He was done, so done, with everything. Gripping the bag tighter in his hand, Cecil made his way towards the radio station. 

 

******************

 

The sun was setting by the time Cecil reached his destination. There were only a few cars left in the employee parking lot and Cecil had half the mind to smash Steve Carlsberg's car as he passed it. He didn’t, only held back by the soothing reminder he wouldn’t have to deal with the jerk anymore once he was done with this.  
He passed the parking lot, this is not the place where he needed to go. He made his way, slowly, to the side of the building and sat down under the third window. This, this was the place, right under studio five.  
The sky was slowly getting darker, the air more and more cold. Cecil was freezing, but he embraced the cold rather than try to shield away from it. Seated on the concrete under the window of studio five, Cecil finally opened his paper bag. Reaching inside, he pulled out one slip of paper. He placed it on his tongue and let it dissolve. When it did, he pulled out another and did the same thing. One by one, the slips of paper inside the bag went onto his tongue.  
Soon it was night and Cecil’s fingers were numb and clumsy, but he did not stop, pushing himself to take just one more one more one more one more one.................

 

*******************

 

Something hard and heavy slammed itself down upon Cecil’s chest and he sat up with a loud gasp, hand flying to the place where he had been hit.  
He took deep, heavy breaths and slowly lowered his hand back down to his lap. The room he was in was too bright and Cecil was confused and a bit scared. Where was he? What was going on?  
He wasn’t in his own clothing and the room he was in was cold. Cecil shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling that the back of whatever he was in was open. A pair of hands suddenly wrapped him in a warm blanket and a soothing voice patted his back and told him everything was ok.  
The lights went down enough for Cecil to stop squinting and the room finally came into focus. He was seated on a small, poorly cushioned bed on wheels, tall overhead lights, now off, all around him. A group of men and women in light blue scrubs and masks and hairnets all around him. The room smelled like cleaning supplies and laughing gas and a machine next to Cecil held a steady beep beep beep that kept in time with his heartbeat.  
With a gulp, the blond boy pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Hospital. He was in the hospital. The proof was right there on his wrist in the form of a plastic bracelet that he hadn’t noticed up until now. The doctor who had given him the blanket and the words of comfort was now turning off the machines that lined the room. The other doctors and nurses were slowly leaving one by one.  
Another person came around behind his bed and began to push Cecil out of the room through a pair of double doors. The young man pulled his knees to his chest and his chin on his knees, pulling the blanket all around him.  
On the other side of the doors was a long hallway leading to another pair of doors and on the other side of those was a line of seats down one side of the wall. Three chairs down was a person a few inches taller than Cecil, with messy short black hair. He had on a ratty black shirt, dark skinny jeans, a long black trenchcoat, and black combat boots, the big silver buckles gleaming in artificial hospital light. His brown eyes were closed and his nose was resting on top of his hands, which were in a praying position, and his yellow framed sunglasses were on top of his head.  
At the sound of squeaky wheels being pushed down the too-clean hall, Steve Carlsberg's eyes flew open. They saw Cecil, just a face peeking out from a blanket, and his hands fell to his mouth. His head fell and in a moment his shoulders were shaking.  
Cecil didn’t even acknowledge him, still in shock, still wondering what had happened. The last memory he had was emptying the bag of LSD. That had been his goal anyways, and he wondered how far he had come. On top of everything, he had woken up rather abruptly in a hospital ER room with no explanation to it. All that, and he was still slightly out of it, the drugs that had been pumped into his arm not fully worn off yet.  
The doctor pushed Cecil into a hospital room with a wide window, tv, bathroom, and a bigger bed. Pushing the thing Cecil was on now to the bedside, the doctor helped Cecil as he clumsily crawled into the bigger, more comfortable bed. After attaching Cecil to new machines and new heart monitors and new IV drips, the doctor reached out as if to pat Cecil’s head, but then thought otherwise and let his hand drop back to his side. “You’re a lucky kid,” he said. “If it weren’t for your friend out there, you wouldn't have made it. We almost lost you in the OR.”  
You should have let me go, Cecil thought, Turning onto his side so the doctor couldn't see how his eyes began to water. It was only after he heard the sounds of the doctor leaving did he stop struggling and let himself cry, cursing himself as he did. He was sick and tired of the tears, but lately that was all that he was doing.  
There was a loud bang and his room door flew open, startling Cecil upright and causing him to look over, where two guys were entering his room, one being Steve and the other......  
“Carlos?”  
Why the hell was Carlos here, and how? Half of Cecil wanted to kiss him, the other half wanted to shove him out the window and watch him fall. Half of him felt giddy, the other half wanted to throw up. No, that was all of him. Cecil leaned over the opposite side of his hospital bed and let loose all the contents that were in his empty stomach, the vomit mostly clear and light yellow stomach acid.  
“Great! Nice work!,” came Steve’s voice, dripping sarcasm and venom. “I’ll go get someone to come clean that up.”  
“No, let me,” came Carlos’s reply, his voice sending shivers up Cecil’s spine. Sure Cecil was mad at him, but that didn’t mean the fact that Carlos was actually here didn’t make him girlishly excited.  
“No, you stay here.” Cecil sat back up in time to see Steve shake his head at his own orders. “Actually, you need to leave. This is your fault anyways you good for nothing--”  
“Steve, shut up. I can take care of this.” Cecil said, his voice chapped and each word burning on its way up his dry throat. He glared at the latino boy. “Carlos, you need to leave. This is your fault anyways.”  
Steve rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath, and left the room. Now Cecil and Carlos were alone. Cecil wanted Carlos to stay but also wanted him out. If he thought about it too much, he’d probably throw up again.  
“I’m not leaving,” Carlos said simply, crossing the room and dragging a chair around to Cecil’s bedside. “And you can’t make me.”  
He sat in the chair and looked at the skinny blond expectantly, as if waiting for him to fight him on his decision. A moment that felt like a thousand years passed, and finally Carlos sighed. “I came to say I’m sorry. Truly, I am. You and your friend there are right, this is my fault. I make that stuff too strong and I shouldn’t have even started, but I love to make stuff and I want to be a scientist when I’m older and--” He cut himself off and looked at Cecil apologetically. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t be boring you with this stuff.”  
Cecil frantically shook his head. “No!” His voice sounding desperate, even to him, and he cleared his throat and started over. “No, really, it’s fine. I-I didn’t know you made that stuff. Is it hard?”  
Carlos’s eyes lit up as he began to explain the thing he loved doing the most, exaggerating his explanation with hand movements and the rise and fall of his caramel voice. It turned out he didn’t mean to start making LSD, it was just what had happened one night while experimenting. He had no use for it himself, but he wasn’t having any luck finding a job and desperately needed the money for himself and his family, so he had brought his first batch to a popular night club.  
“Remember the night I first met you?,” he asked, his eyes still gleaming, but differently now. “That was the same night.” He gave Cecil a gentle smile. “So thanks, I guess, for that.”  
Cecil had to fight the quickly glowing blush in his cheeks with thoughts of how he had quickly gotten addicted and how that had ended him up here. “I almost died thanks to you.”  
Carlos nodded. “Yeah, I know, and Cecil I am so sorry. I learned in science class that after a while a persons body gets used to the high and searches for that same feeling each time. That’s what I was trying to do with each new batch, up the high.”  
Noticing the rising anger in Cecil’s face, Carlos pushed on. “I know that could have killed you--” his voice cracked and he lowered his head. When he spoke again his voice was shaking, on the verge of tears. “Nothing I can ever do will make up for that and nothing I say will ever explain how sorry I am......Cecil......”  
Carlos stopped talking as his shoulders began to shake, soft sobs filling the space between himself and Cecil. Although the boy in the hospital bed was still angry, that didn’t stop the fact that no matter what he couldn't stand to see perfect Carlos cry. He wanted that sparkle to be back, he wanted his eyes to light up when he talked about something he loved. Quick Cecil, think of a random science question!  
“How many chromosomes do cats have?” What came out of his mouth, the words tripping over themselves, made no sense to him, but it made Carlos looks up and, more importantly, stop crying.  
Carlos furrowed his brow, as if trying to decide whether or not Cecil was messing with him. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve and replied, “Thirty-eight. Cats have thirty-eight chromosomes.”  
Good, good! This was working! And anything to make Carlos happy. “What’s the first radioactive element?”  
Carlos sat up a little straighter. “The first radioactive element on the periodic table is Technetium, however, the first discovered radioactive elements were Radium and Polonium. There--there were two.”  
He looked proud of himself, like a toddler tieing their laces all by themselves for the first time. But then his eyes got wide and he sprung forward, placing one hand on Cecil’s arm and the other on his leg. “I’m sorry! I feel like I’m boring you. All this conversation has been about is me and I--”  
It was then that he noticed he was touching Cecil, skin-to-skin, and he stopped mid-sentence. Carlos’s reaction drew Cecil to notice it too and he held his breath, determined to go blue, not pink.  
The time that passed was only seconds, but to the two boys it might as well have been hours. With a sharp intake of breath, Carlos snatched away his hands so fast it was if Cecil was on fire, and Cecil finally took a breath. They both looked in different directions, the atmosphere now awkward, and just then Steve came back with a nurse.  
Steve pointed to Cecil’s bed. “It’s on the other side,” he explained, and the nurse nodded and left to get cleaning supplies.  
Desperate to say something, Cecil looked to Steve with forced anger, anything to keep from blushing. Carlos touched me!  
“It took you long enough!,” he snapped, crossing his arms. Steve put his hands up in surrender and backed out of the room. “And don’t come back!,” Cecil shouted after the goth.  
Carlos turned to Cecil. “Hey man, you’re friend is good to you. He means well don’t--”  
Cecil scoffed. “That is Steve Carsburg and we are not friends.”  
Carlos’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed to the now empty doorway. “That was....” Cecil cut him off with a nod. The dark skinned boy, much to Cecil’s surprise, began laughing.  
“What?,” Cecil asked. “What is it?”  
The angel before him with the laugh to match leaned back in his chair, throwing his head back as his laughter filled the room. When he finally could control himself enough to speak, still smiling, he said, “The way you described him I was picturing, well, a total jerk. But if that’s the infamous Steve, then I think you have nothing to worry about.” Carlos’s grin was perfect, his teeth as white as pearls and as straight as a military graveyard, and this time the light in his eyes was for the boy before him in the hospital bed.  
Cecil’s heart nearly stopped. “You--you actually listen to what I say?”  
Carlos stopped laughing and his smile turned sheepish as a slight blush rose in his cheeks. “Every time we’re together,” he admitted. His blush grew deeper as he continued. “I’m really glad I decided to come visit you, Cecil. You’re really cool and interesting, much more so when you’re not high. I didn’t like that. But this,” He leaned over and took Cecil’s hand in his, “This I like.”  
Cecil had to bite his tongue as hard as he possibly could to keep from screaming. Just as it looked like Carlos was going to say something else, the nurse came back with cleaning supplies. The two boys watched her come in and Carlos sighed. “I guess that’s my cue.” He squeezed Cecil’s hand once and let go, standing up and turning to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
Still trying his hardest not to make a strange noise, Cecil just nodded. Carlos’s face lit up and he flashed the blond a thumbs-up before leaving the room, his footsteps fading down the hallway.  
With a muffled squeal, still biting his tongue, Cecil leaned back in his bed and covered his face with his hands. Carlos likes me! Carlos actually likes me! From behind his hands his mouth split into a huge grin.  
Kneeling up the floor and cleaning up the mess, the nurse looked up at Cecil and jestered towards the doorway with one gloved hand. “That your boyfriend?,” she asked. I don’t know. I think so. Maybe. I wish.  
“No,” Cecil told her honestly.  
The woman shrugged. “Too bad. You too are cute together.”  
Cecil stared at her, wide-eyed, his mouth open in an “O” of surprise. The nurse finished her job and walked out without looking back.

 

****************

 

The next day, as promised, Carlos came back. And this time he had a little girl with him, who shyly hid behind his legs, peeking at Cecil from behind them.  
“This is my little sister, Evelyn,” Carlos said. Placing a gentle hand on the little girls head, he scooted her forwards. “Say hello.”  
With little steps, Evelyn slowly came forwards. “Hi,” she mumbled, looking at the floor. She raised her eyes up only for a moment before looking down again. Then her brow furrowed and she looked up again at Cecil, hard this time. Suddenly, she smiled slyly and turned to Carlos.  
“So this is the “weird” guy you’re always talking about! The one you said was awesome and fun and funny and muy, muy picante?” She waggled her eyebrows at the last part, making Cecil wish he had taken a second language in school.  
Carlos’s face glowed red like a stoplight. “I did not say that! Cállate la boca!!!” His sister giggled and skipped to the other side of the bed, letting Carlos take his seat next to Cecil’s bedside.  
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Cecil said, smiling. Carlos nodded and glanced at Evelyn, who was watching the two boys intensely. He sighed.  
“Evelyn,” he said, handing the little girl a few dollar bills. “Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat downstairs?” The dark skinned girl nodded, took the money, and ran out of the room.  
“I am the oldest of five others. Evelyn is the youngest and the only girl. The others are Ricardo, Antonio, Gabriel, and Santiago,” Carlos explained as he watched his sister go. There was a tang to his voice, some sad undertone. He went on.  
“Our parents already work so hard to support all of us, we barely get to see them. So I swore to myself that I’d go somewhere to live and work and one day be able to help out.” He let out a bitter laugh. “That didn’t go very well, as you can see.”  
Cecil placed a comforting hand on Carlos’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry,” he said truthfully. Someone as wonderful as Carlos didn’t deserve that kind of story, that kind of life.  
“But at least you get to see your siblings. I don’t even remember what they looked like.”  
Carlos turned back to the boy in the bed. “What do you mean?”  
Cecil took a deep breath. He had never told anyone any of this before. Even while high he made sure to lock up his home life problems so that they could never slip out. “What I mean is that everybody in my family walked out on me. I never knew my father, and my mother took my older brother and little sister away with her one day and never came back. The house is still being paid for, somehow, but I am..........alone.” His voice began to crack. “I am all alone.”  
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry! You haven't cried about any of this before, so don’t start now! Especially not in front of Carlos!  
The person in question had his hands over his mouth, his brown eyes wide. “Cecil....I’m sorry. I had no idea............I am really, really sorry..........” Carlos gasped suddenly and leaned forwards, wiping away the tears Cecil didn’t know he was shedding until now. “You’re gonna be ok, ok? Oh Cecil...........”  
The blond teen with the tattoos up and down both arms waited until Carlos was finished before speaking again. “Carlos, why.....why are you being so nice to me?”  
The hispanic teen paused for a moment, thinking it over. When he finally did reply, it was slow, each word well thought over. “I’m being nice to you and........and I came here because......because outside of my family you were the only person who showed any interest in me, any......any kindness. Nobody wants to be seen talking with a differently raced boy from the slums who sells drugs. Most would...would, when they bought from me, do it in the most hidden place they could find and scram. Nobody ever.....ever opened up to me...let alone talk to me.”  
He had been talking to his lap but now he looked up. “I was going to be a scientist.” He gave Cecil a small smile, which the blond returned.  
“Thanks, Carlos, for telling me all this.”  
Carlos shrugged. “It was nothing, really. You’ve shared so much about yourself with me, I thought it was just my turn to return the favor.”  
“How long have we known each other anyway?,” Cecil asked. From the time he had first bought drugs from Carlos up until right now.....how much time was that?  
“Almost eleven months,” Carlos said, pushing up his thick, black-rimmed glasses. Noticing that he had answered way to quickly, he went red and lowered his head. Cecil’s mouth fell open. “You’ve been counting!”  
With a small cry of embarrassment, Carlos covered his face with his hands, but nodded. “Si, I’ve been counting,” he admitted shamefully. He took a deep breath, uncovered his hands, and looked back up. “I have been counting,” he repeated. “Because somewhere along there, I fell in love with you.”  
I fell in love with you.  
Before Cecil’s mouth could fall open in shock, it was caught by Carlos.  
Suddenly, Cecil knew what being happy was like. So many plastic, meaningless kisses at the club that had been cold and dead, vanished. Instead of cold it was warm, instead of kissing plastic it actually felt like another person, instead of meaningless Cecil could feel every fiber in his body explode. What had once been black and white was now bursting with so many colors. The colors were overwhelming, so he shut his eyes and felt. Felt the happy feeling rising up from his stomach, felt the warmth that coated his entire body, both inside and out, and felt Carlos’s lips on his own, the spot on his body that was on fire, where fireworks were bursting.  
Carlos reached around to the back of Cecil’s neck, the place his hand lay setting fire to Cecil’s skin. The hand moved up to Cecil’s blond hair, gently tangling its fingers in the blond mop, and against his mouth Cecil could feel Carlos humm with pleasure.  
Cecil was doing nothing, not moving, not ever sure he could move. He was putty in Carlos’s hands, a puppet. The other boy had complete control over him. He had both his hands fisting something soft and silky and long and wondered when exactly he had reached for Carlos’s perfect hair. But that didn’t matter. Who cared?  
Cecil’s senses were blurred, on overdrive, clouding his brain. The only thing happening was the only thing that mattered, and that thing was Carlos. His touch, his taste, his sent, the little sounds he was making. This was the only thing that matters. Cecil was finally happy, really and truly happy.  
Cecil opened his mouth and Carlos took the bait. The dealers tongue was like velvet, his mouth, not just his lips, like pure chocolate. Carlos was clutching to him, pulling them tightly together, chests crushed against each other. It was bliss. It was pure bliss, better than any high. He didn’t need drugs, he needed Carlos. Carlos, who was so much better than a drug. Carlos was a human, someone who could love back, not a slip of paper with some powder on the back. Happy, happy, finally happy.  
A high-pitched squeal cut through the cloud in Cecil’s mind and he and Carlos jerked apart. In the doorway was Evelyn, who had her knuckles up to a crazy-looking grin on her face. When her brother and Cecil looked at her she began jumping around, screaming in spanish. Finally she stopped and looked at the two boys. She began flapping her arms like mad, as if trying to take flight. “I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”  
Smiling like a psychopath, the little girl ran into the room, around the bed, and took her seat back on the other side of the bed, resting her chin in her hands and leaning forwards. “Don’t let me interrupt you,” she said, adjusting herself on her stool, the big smile never leaving her face.  
Carlos made a noise and hid his face in his hands. “Evelyn, is this really necessary? And stop bouncing!” The little girl, who was bouncing up and down so fast it was like she was on vibrate, stopped and held still.  
“Carlos, do you want me to go home? If I came in at a bad time--” Here her grin grew even wider, making Cecil worried she was about to pop-- “I can leave you two alone again.”  
Her brother shook his head. “No, I’ll take you home. Did you get something to eat? You all good?”  
Evelyn nodded and slipped off her stool. The smile was gone and now she just looked annoyed. She walked slowly out of the room, Carlos watching her go. He then grabbed up his jacket.  
“She’s spending all day with a friend tomorrow and spending the night, too,” he told Cecil as he put his coat on. “I’ll be back then.” Then he kissed Cecil on the cheek and followed his sister out the door.  
Cecil fell backwards onto his hospital bed. Half of him wanted to scream and cheer, the other half was turned to jello and didn’t trust his own voice to do anything. Carlos had kissed him! Carlos had kissed him multiple times! In fact, and he couldn’t believe it, Carlos had made out with him! Cecil buried his face in his pillow and screeched.  
A knock on the door made him look up. It was the nurse from before, the one who had asked him if Carlos was his boyfriend. She was smiling at him as if she knew something and it was only then that Cecil realized the door had been open the whole time.  
“Now do you want something to eat?,” the nurse asked.  
“N...now?,” Cecil stammered. How much had she seen, if anything? Of course, that smile made him have a gut feeling that she had at least seen a little of what had happened.  
“I passed by here about three times to ask about dinner but you were a little, shall I say, busy, to reply.” She winked. “I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”  
Cecil hid his face in his hands and the nurse laughed. “It’s ok. I’m happy for you, kid. He seems like a nice guy. Now, what do you want for dinner?”

 

***********

 

Cecil woke up in the middle of the night, short of breath and in a cold sweat. He couldn’t think straight, he was disoriented, and he felt like he was about to vomit. Scared, he tried to scream for help, but his voice failed him and he only squeaked. The vomit-y feeling was growing in the pit of his stomach and this time when he tried to call for help again, his dinner came up. Cecil managed to lean over his bedside just in time so none of the vomit got on his bed. He felt awful, beyond awful. He felt so crappy and sick he just wanted to die. Was he dying already? Is that what this was?  
He tried to call for help again, but nothing was coming out but more vomit. The chinks of food soon turned to stomach acid and the stomach acid and liquid soon turned to just dry heaving. Cecil realised his nose was running and that he was crying. If this was death, then let him go.  
Then, the most beautiful thing in the world. A nurse, come to check on his night vitals. She came through the door and gasped at the sight before her. Cecil, sick and feverish and crying, looked up at her. Blond hair pasted to his forehead, pale skin gone white, he looked up at her. He felt very tired now, He just wanted to close his eyes, even if he was still in pain. He just wanted to sleep. As the nurse called for help, Cecil croaked, “Help........me.....”  
And then he gave into the darkness.

 

**************

 

The next amount of time were blurs of being on and out of consciousness. Cecil didn’t know if it was hours, days, weeks, or even years. Maybe it had just been minutes, he didn’t know.  
In one of those times between sleep and awake, Cecil was aware of being held by someone, his head cradled in the persons lap, his hair being petted. The person’s voice sounded familiar, but in that inbetween place, Cecil could not name who it was. Whoever it was, their body was shaking with sobs and they were whimpering, This is all my fault, this is all my fault.........  
The next time Cecil was semi-awake, the same person was curled around him. Their cheek was laying against Cecil’s forehead, sticky with tears. Then he was back under, taken over by dreams and darkness.  
This time he stayed asleep for a long time. It was like blacking out and staying that way. Again, time lost its meaning, and Cecil had no idea how long he was gone until one day it was as if he was yanked from the darkness into the light. Like zooming through a tunnel at top speed and finally reaching outside again.  
He was being held again by the same person he had been held by the times before. Carlos. Now that he had his head about him, he knew it was Carlos. And right now, Carlos was crying again, saying something in spanish over and over that Cecil wished he understood.  
“Lo siento. Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento..............”  
Head finally clear, Cecil opened his eyes. There was Carlos, huddled over him, keeping Cecil’s head in his lap, and crying. He had taken off his thickly framed glasses to be able to poorly wipe away the tears every so often.  
Cecil felt his stomach sink and that inner feeling to keep Carlos, perfect, beautiful Carlos, happy kicked in. Reaching one hand up, he wiped away Carlos’s tears with weak, shaking fingers. “Carlos.........,” Cecil croaked, voice sore from lack of use. He cleared his throat hard and tried again. “Don’t be sad.”  
Carlos let out a cry, pinned Cecil’s arms above his head, and began peppering his face with kisses. It was quick and at random at first, but slowly the kisses grew longer and further apart, each one getting closer to Cecil’s mouth.  
Finally, Carlos’s last kiss ended on Cecil’s mouth and stayed there. Yet again, Cecil felt like every atom in his body was exploding, every inch of him going warm and tingly. Carlos’s hands, on Cecil’s lower arm all the way over his head, slid up, his dark fingers intertwining with Cecil’s white and tattooed ones.  
And Carlos tastes like candy, his occasional bite to Cecil’s lower lip sending shockwaves all throughout his body. Cecil feels that, and he feels the weight on his chest where Carlos is straddling him, as well as the slight tickle on his cheek, like wind, where Carlos’s long hair is brushing his skin, and the hums that travel from Carlos’s lips to Cecil’s, making his whole body vibrate.  
“I love you”  
It was said against the kiss, said while both pairs of lips are still pressed against each other, and at first Cecil thinks he said it automaticly, that it slipped out without him realising it. But then Carlos pulls away, resting his forehead against Cecil’s and says, “Didn’t you hear me?”  
Still in a daze, all Cecil can do is blink. Carlos smiles and buries his face in Cecil’s neck and then those words, the wonderful words, are said again.  
“I love you.”  
Cecil’s heart explodes.  
Cecil’s heart stops.  
Cecil’s heart doesn't know what to do. So many times he has said those very words to Carlos, but now, now he is hearing them in return. He doesn't know weather to cry or cheer, to kiss Carlos or to hold him close and hear it again. Instead, he decides to do something else.  
“I love you too,” Cecil replies in a whisper, his heart pounding. And once it’s out, the damn is broke. Like a broken record player, those same words escape from his lips over and over and over again. Sometimes he thinks it is not he who is saying it, but Carlos is too. Carlos, who’s face is still buried in Cecil’s neck, fingers still tangled with Cecil’s, still straddling his chest.  
Cecil’s voice starts hurting again so he stops talking. Both boys on the hospital bed are as still as statues, both just enjoying the feel of the other against their skin and the breathing of the other in their ear. Neither one moves, neither one wants to.  
Finally, Cecil breaks the silence. “Can you stay the night?”  
Carlos let himself fall onto Cecil, who lets out a slight oomp! He kept his hands where they were and fit his head under Cecil’s chin. “Of course I will.” 

 

*************

 

A few hours later, Cecil’s bed is up in a sitting position, both boys sharing it. Sitting side-by-side, Carlos’s arm is around Cecil’s waist while Cecil is resting his head on Carlos’s chest, still in ecstasy about the fact that this perfect human being, this literal angel on earth, is now his boyfriend for real life.  
They were enjoying a science program on TV together while they waited for their pizza to arrive, Carlos occasionally nuzzling and kissing Cecil’s head. When the pizza arrived, they put their show on mute and just talked.  
“When you get out of here,” Carlos said between bites of breadsticks, “Promise me you’ll go back to the station and get on the radio.”  
Cecil shook his head. “No. No way. They don’t want me back there.” He tried to keep his voice from cracking and shoved more food in his mouth in fear that if he were to speak again he might start crying.  
There was a long moment of silence as both boys chewed their food and then Carlos spoke up again. “I’ll make you a deal. You go back to try and get on the radio, and I’ll go to the local lab five blocks away and try to get a job there.”  
Cecil lit up. “You’re going to become a scientist?!”  
“Only if you go back to the radio station.”  
Cecil nodded. “Alright. Deal.”

 

*************

 

Weeks later, the day had arrived, and Cecil and Carlos were helping eachother get ready. They were at Carlos’s house, shoved together in the house’s only bathroom, which was the size of a closet.  
“Where are my glasses?”  
“Carlos what do you think? Sleeves up or down?”  
“Where are my glasses?”  
Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, Cecil smiled and knocked Carlos’s glasses, which were on top of his head, down with a kiss to his temple. “Found your glasses.”  
Carlos, blushing furiously, turned to the mirror and pulled his long dark hair into a ponytail as Cecil washed off his own glasses in the bathroom sink.  
“You ready to go?”  
Cecil pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded. Taking Carlos’s hand, they walked out the door together.  
“I'm scared,” Carlos admitted, not five minutes into the walk.  
“I'm terrified,” Cecil agreed.  
Carlos gave him a look. “Please. You have nothing to worry about. They already know you. The scientists at the lab don’t know me at all.” Suddenly his face fell and he went pale. He looked up at Cecil with wide eyes. “What if they hate me?”  
“Let’s see. Young, brilliant scientist. Not to mention very good looking. And--” Cecil leaned over and kissed Carlos, long and slow. “And a very good kisser. They’d be crazy not to hire you.”  
Carlos laughed and leaned into Cecil’s side, sliding his hand from Cecil’s hand to around Cecil’s waist. “Thanks Cec.”

 

***********

 

He had gotten in!  
Cecil, speeding towards the lab, couldn’t get the smile off his face. He had gotten back in, and not only that, but stupid old Steve Carlsberg had come to his senses and given Cecil the promotion. Starting tomorrow, Cecil would actually be on the radio.  
He couldn’t wait to tell Carlos.  
But wait, there was Carlos now, running full speed ahead at Cecil.  
They met in the middle and Carlos tackled Cecil almost to the ground, screaming joyously in spanish.  
“I’m a radio host!,” Cecil nearly shouted.  
“I’m a scientist!,” Carlos calmed down enough to nearly shout back.  
And just like that the space between them was closed, the fireworks exploding through Cecil’s entire body and he and Carlos kissed again and again and again.  
When they finally separated, both gasping for air, Cecil gasped and clapped his hands. “I know just how to celebrate!”

 

***********

 

That night, for the first time ever, Cecil was actually happy sitting on the dirty couch in the back of his favorite club. Instead of some guy he didn’t care for kissing him, it was Carlos. Instead of someone he didn’t feel anything for straddling him, it was Carlos. Instead of someone he didn’t even know moaning the name of somebody else, it was Carlos moaning Cecil’s name as if it was a dirty prayer.  
It had taken Cecil forever to talk his boyfriend into doing this with him. Carlos’s idea of celebrating the good news was a dinner out at most, but Cecil had pitched a mini-fit and so in the end Carlos had agreed.  
The next two hours was Cecil getting them both ready: changing Carlos’s shirt to something he couldn’t close even if he tried, dark eyeliner, and strings and strings of beads around his neck. Cecil himself decided not to wear a shirt at all and instead throw on a snow white fur coat, glitter on his cheeks and lips, and his normal pink eye makeup, heels. Because Carlos was pitching such a fit about the weather, Cecil finally gave in and put on a pair of skinny jeans instead of the leather pants he had wanted to wear.  
Right now though, it didn’t seem to matter what kind of pants Cecil was wearing, Carlos was trying to get them off anyway. Not that Cecil minded. The open shirt Carlos had been wearing was gone, lost somewhere in the club and Cecil’s fur coat had been slid off and was now resting around his hips.  
And his body was on fire. Each kiss from Carlos made him feel as if he was touching the sky, flying close to the sun. Just the feeling of skin against skin was erotic, but then there was the kisses, the heavy breathing, his name being whispered every so often from lips equally as kiss bruised as his own.  
This was it. This was pure bliss. Cecil had nearly died in the process, but if he had to go back he wouldn’t do anything different. Surrounded by colors and sound and on the edge of forever, Carlos’s lips moving ever downwards, he took a deep breath and let the moment overtake him.  
And he was happy.


End file.
